Believe by Glynis Rankin (best short books to read txt) 📕

“We saw her window open, but just assumed she went out the door.”

 Wilburn led Wash to the opposite side of the house where a large oak stood as a dark sentinel.  The area’s covered in shadows, but the light glowing from the cruisers brighten their path. An open window on the second floor held shadows of techs moving about the room.

“That’s the girl’s room?”  The tree’s large branches could hold a girl, but they were too far away from the house for her to jump.

   Wilburn nodded. “So that’s her way out the house? She hears the screams, got scared and decided to climb out of a two story window, but how?” 

 It’s a sound theory, Wash thought. He’d seen people run from crimes scene plenty of times. Adrenaline makes a person do things that seemed crazy. He saw a woman locked in a burning room; throw her children from a two story building to save their lives.  People did amazingly stupid things when frightened.

 Wash didn’t know a lot about fifteen year old girls.  Hell, the little he knew about women could be put in a tea cup, but what if she’d done this heroic feet, just to go meet a boy. Fear and lust are the world’s greatest motivators. 

 “Or this was her way back inside, see if you can climb up there Wilburn.”

 “On it!” The young officer didn’t hesitate; he crossed over and began to climb the tree.

An owl hooted just as Sergeant Powers sauntered up to him like a bantam ghoul.  “Detective Wash!” 

Wash jumped.

“Shit man!"  He frowned. "Where are we on the search Sergeant?”

“Got officers canvassing the neighborhood, the canine unit is here. If the girl is still in the area, we’ll find her.”

“Any word on her family, anyone she might reach out to for help?” Wash shivered. The sergeant gave him the willies.

“Do you remember about ten years back when a Forest Ranger found a girl in the woods upstate?” Powers asked.

Wash rubbed his head. “Can’t say that I do; so this Sara Doe’s some missing kid?”

“No, she isn’t missing, just never claimed. Thus her, sir name, Doe.”

Wash shook his head. “What about friends, classmates?”

“Nothing on friends of either gender; it looks like the Elton kept the girl lock down.”  Wash looked up at Wilburn progress. He’s having problems finding his footing.

“Okay, take point on the search; but let me know the minute they find anything.” Wash ordered.

“Yes Detective.” Powers headed back into the gloom like a specter.

  He looked back up, but Wilburn had already disappeared inside the window.

“I don’t ever want to be young and naïve again.”

Wash stepped back to the front of the well-kept house, but remained in the shadows watching the flashing lights of cruisers and emergency vehicles lining the middle class neighborhood.

 The Mayor’s pet project was the gentrification of the Southside.  Lincoln Park was news even before this double homicide. But Wash still frowned when a group of TV vans parked on the opposite side of the street behind the yellow tape but well within view of the house.

“Damn, this is messy.”

Wash’s happy to see the chief medical examiner Dr. Robe, step from the city van. They’re sending out the A team on this, he thought grabbing an officer from a group hanging around the porch. “Get that crime tape moved further out!”                                                             

 It’s the perfect hiding place.

Sara found the crawl space a few months ago when she saw a squirrel climb through a hole under the house. It took her two days to work the wooden boards loose enough for her to squeeze inside. The small enclosure was the height of the crawl space under her bed with just enough legroom.

The hide-a-hole became her refuge from Nell’s cruelty and Tom’s fists.  Her solace, the place where she didn’t have to pretend for Social Workers, DHS or her foster parents, is also the perfect place to dig a hole.

Sara used the knife to remove the soft dirt to hide the bag full of blood smeared clothes. The next best thing to burning them, she thought.

While she covered the hole, Sara listened to the police sarcastic bantering about her parents. She lay on her stomach breathing hard, hearing them search the house and the surround vicinity. When they called out her name, she didn't answer. All the while hoping they wouldn’t find her under the house until she’s ready.

 Sara got mad when she overheard a neighbor telling the police about the Elton’s abusive nature.

  “I don't won't to speak ill of the dead. And mind you that girl has a temple, but it’s just awful how those people treated that child.”

  The neighbors knew they abused her, yet none of them lifted a finger to help.

She hated them, all of them.

                                                                   **

Sara knew they were dead.  It wasn’t some strange devotion to her abusers that made her rushed to their side, just simple human instinct. She loathed the two people that made life a living hell for years. Yet in that moment, seeing their disemboweled distorted bodies, Sara sensed something other than what she’d always borne toward the Elton’s. She pitied them.

  The police wasn’t going to believe her story, not with her juvenile record. Her only choice was to hide until she came up with a version of the truth that they'd believe.

Sara planned to wait the police out, but feeling closed in and fidgety changed everything.

 The dark, small, spider webbed enclosure was a different place at night. The weird multi-legged things crawling around and over her body made Sara shivered.  When something with many hairy legs walked across her arm, she assumed it’s one of those flesh eating insect attracted by the blood in the bag. She saw a program on the nature channel that talked about them.

 “Ewww.”   She whispered, shaking the insect off her arm. It’s time to leave, she deduced.

 Besides, she had a plan.  Sara had her hand on a board to remove it when she heard the barking of a dog at the gap of her opening.

“She’s in here!” Some man shouted. While the dog continued to bark, someone began to pull away the boards.

 “They’ve found me!” Sara scurried further back inside the darkness.

 “Hello, are you in there?” A young male officer stuck his head inside; he flashed his light around the dark space until it landed on Sara’s frightened face. “You can come out now Sara, I’m with the police. I’m not going to hurt you.”

 “I hope not.” She whispered.              

He’s close.

 Xavier smelled the thrill of the kill still lingering in the air. But that wasn’t what led him through a thicket of bushes. He’d have continued on, but Rocco grabbed his shirt. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I need to find out what happened.”                                            

“Why?” The six foot four, slender,  young man looked both fierce and beautiful.

In 1893 a hungry werewolf came upon the last living person in a desolate Maasai settlement. A young warrior crawled on all four fighting off a swarm of hovering vultures.  The madness of starvation glared in his eyes, but he fought them off the skeleton remains of his wife and child. The strength observed in the warrior convinced the werewolf to add him to his Pack.

A natural protector, fear wasn’t part of Rocco’s character. They ran the streets as wolves, reveled in the thrill of the hunt, and partook of their spoils. They knew the city held dangers for man and wolf alike, but this night held her own special blend of perils.  Rocco held Xavier back from himself.

  Xavier yanked his shirt free from Rocco’s gasp. “You’re challenging me?”

Rocco didn’t move. He narrowed his eyes at his best friend.

Xavier’s self-discipline, strength and fortitude spoke volumes about his Alpha nature. It would one day serve him well as a leader. However, as a Beta, Rocco’s not only a warrior, but a guardian of the Pack. They've never tested the limits of their fighting skills on each other.  Insight, warned that this wasn’t the time. “You don’t think I got a whiff her?”

It’s a simple question, but one that seemed to defused Xavier’s temper. The scent had made him foolish; territorial over something that doesn’t belong to him, at least not yet.

“I’ve got to follow this through.”

 Rocco nodded, knowing the pull on his friend. “If she’s killed…”

“I understand.” Xavier  turned from his friend and stepped through the thicket.

                                            **

Rocco watched Xavier vanish through the underbrush. The emotional impact the endorphins had on his mind and body were overwhelming, even for his century old wolf.  Rocco’s lips curved at the corners, he knew actually how Xavier felt.  It’s fortunate for him that he found his mate decades ago or his friend would have a rival. He suddenly frowned.

The shadows grew longer as the new moon replaced the sun.  The moon affected the chemistry already coursing through Rocco’s system.  It only added to the feeling of dread rising in his gut.

Moonstruck werewolves are territorial and dangerous creatures. Newly formed are suspicious, edgy, and menacing. However, Rogues are traitorous, cunning beasts with no loyalties.  He didn’t know which Xavier chased in his haste to mate. 

Added to that the possibility of violence whenever two strange Wolves meet, plus the call of a new moon and it made for a dangerous, possibly deadly night.

Rococo sighed; he’s not a fan of dark, damp woods, preferring instead the openness of the dusty savannah of his homeland. But he couldn’t let Xavier face this night alone in his condition.

“Here I go into the jungle!” He stepped through the thick, tangled plant life of the underbrush to follow his friend.   

Wash needed to get a feel for Nell